


that dreamers often lie

by the_crownless_queen



Series: Sapphic September 2019 [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/F, Memory Loss, Sapphic September, Sapphic September 2019, WTF, bc wtf jkr, part of my unending attempts to make the Slytherins more than the evil house, this is pure pain sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 15:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20677847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_crownless_queen/pseuds/the_crownless_queen
Summary: Ginny made her brave. Sometimes, Pansy wishes she could hate her for that.





	that dreamers often lie

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sapphic September, Day 15: Memory Loss.  
You can find the prompts [ here ](https://the-crownless-queen.tumblr.com/post/187393992430/sapphic-september-2019)
> 
> Sorry about the angst, but I hope you enjoy this anyway.

The words burn as they fall from Pansy’s lips, but she won’t hold them back.

If they are all she can give Ginny, Pansy would write them on the walls, here, at Hogwarts — she would etch them into the very fabric of the sky, even.

“I’m sorry,” she says. No words have ever been harder.

Ginny’s eyes widen in surprise, her brow furrows into a frown. “What for?” she asks.

She is so trusting. Sweet Morgana, Pansy loves her for it. She smiles and leans in, resting her forehead against Ginny’s. Their breath mingles, and her eyes are closed.

It’s easier like this, even if it doesn’t stop her heart from aching.

Pansy must have been silent for too long because Ginny’s hands start rubbing her arms as she moves away.

“Hey,” she starts, her eyes so brown and so soft, “what’s wrong?”

_ You shouldn’t trust me, _ Pansy wants to yell.  _ Why would you ever do that? You knew what I was and you still loved me, and now I loved you, and… _

_ And… _

But of course, Pansy says none of that. Her tongue sticks in her mouth if she tries, growing heavy like lead, and she just smiles instead, shaking her head just a little.

“Nothing.” She shrugs. “I love you, that’s all.” Pansy sighs and looks away, her heart giving a treacherous pang. “And I’m worried, I suppose,” she admits after a short pause.

Ginny nods, letting her hands drift down to catch Pansy’s. When she smiles, her eyes burn. “The war won’t last forever,” she promises. “You’ll see.” Her smile widens and gentles. “I know you believe it too,” she says, “or you wouldn’t have been helping us.”

Pansy shrugs back. ‘Helping’ is a big word for what little information she manages to send back about the Carrows and their reign of terror. It’s not enough, and they both know it — but Ginny, for all of her fiery temper, also understand that Pansy can’t afford to get caught now.

Not just for Pansy herself, but for the information she provides.

Better we don’t know everything, Ginny had confided bitterly once, than knowing nothing at all.

And that’s why Pansy has to do this. Because she can do more, and Pansy’s done the math — she can do more.

All it will take is a brand on her forearm and her pledge to a cause that might kill her, and all it will cost her is the girl she loves, the girl who would stop her if she knew.

(Ginny made her braver. Salazar curse her, but she had, and Pansy almost wishes she could hate her for it.)

“I know,” Pansy says out loud. “I believe you.” She forces herself to smile and ignore the sick feeling in her stomach.

Leaning in is all too easy, all too familiar. Somehow, Ginny’s lips still taste like home.

She buries one hand in Ginny’s hair and flexes her other wrist until her wand drops inside her palm. The wood is cool and hard, and Pansy closes her fingers around it as tight as she dares.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers again, this time against Ginny’s lips.

And this time, Ginny doesn’t get to ask why before the spell bursts out of Pansy’s wands.

_ “Obliviate!” _

Memories flash as Pansy focuses on what she wants to remove — Ginny, at the Library, gnawing absently on the end of a quill as she studies and sneaks glances at Pansy, who sneaks glances back.

Ginny, her eyes as fiery as her hair as she promises Pansy she will make her suffer if she ever thinks about betraying the DA to the Carrows.

Ginny, blazen and unafraid as she pulls in Pansy for a kiss, swearing she doesn’t mind her house and family if Pansy doesn’t mind hers.

Ginny, and endless clandestine meetings after dark; Ginny, and secret notes passed furtively in corridors, their fingers grazing and never quite touching for long enough.

Ginny, Ginny, Ginny.

And finally, the spell ends, and Ginny just stands there, her expression vacant and gazed.

Pansy feels sick for it.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, but the words taste like ash and bile.

She leaves Ginny at the Hospital Wing. It’s the best she can do. It’s  _ all _ she can do now. Staying would be more than she deserves.

But this is for the best. Once Pansy bears the Mark, the Carrows will trust her more, and if they trust her more, Pansy will  _ know _ more. She can act, truly act — and if she fails, nobody will know about Ginny.

That doesn’t mean the Gryffindor is safe — nobody really is, not until the war ends — but it does mean she is  _ safer. _

Right now, it’s better than the alternative.


End file.
